


Possible

by koalathebear



Category: Homeland
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mindless Fluff, One Shot, Post-Canon, Sappy, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:58:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unabashedly, sappy fluffy take on what would happen at some point in a very idyllic, non-angsty season 4 if Carrie is station chief in Istanbul with Quinn at her side.  I am in no way saying that this could, would or should happen - I just felt like writing something fluffy and happy for Carrie and Quinn :P</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possible

The warm sunlight streams through the window of the Ottoman mansion that has been transformed into a boutique hotel – luxurious and cosy at the same time. The hotel in question was selected for a number of reasons – historical significance, view, comfort and security.

The baby gives a little cry from the adjoining room and Quinn rises from the bed and pulls on a pair of boxer shorts before he goes to check on her. There is a low murmuring, a chuckle and after the baby settles again, Quinn glances at the bed before going into the bathroom. He emerges a little while later smelling of toothpaste.

As he slides back into bed, Carrie shifts slightly and blinks up at him. "… baby all right?" she mumbles drowsily and he nods.

"Go back to sleep," he tells her gently but she yawns and mumbles,"You've peed and also clearly brushed your teeth – my turn." 

He helps her pull a t-shirt on, allowing his hands to linger on her warm skin as he does so and then he watches her stagger sleepily into the bathroom, laughing when she narrow misses colliding into the door frame. Carrie Mathison has never been a morning person – no surprises there. 

When she returns and slides back into the bed beside him, her face is washed but she still looks tousled and sleepy. She has allowed her hair to return to its natural brown and it gives her a younger and softer appearance.

"You've left some toothpaste here," he tells her, licking his fingertip and wiping it away from her bottom lip.

"Ewww, germs," she mumbles even as she curls against him.

"I think we've thoroughly contaminated one another already, Carrie," he tells her with a faint smile on his mouth and kisses her lightly on the mouth. Her mouth clings to his for a moment.

"Is this why you brought us here?" she asks him, staring at him narrowly. "Did you know this would happen?" she asks him curiously.

"You were the one who jumped me last night," he protests as his hand lingers on the pale skin of her bare hip.

"Yes but everything is premeditated with you – 'Carrie you need a break, Carrie - let's go to the Turquoise Coast for a few days, it'll be great …' "

"And it's been great," he said huskily lowering his head to kiss her again. "Even better than I could have hoped for."

She winces slightly as she moves and he looks at her in concern. "Are you ok?"

"You're an animal in the bed, Quinn and you're looking at a woman who hasn't had sex in more than a year."

That makes him laugh although the bruises on her pale skin do cause him to feel a pang of remorse until the bite marks on his shoulders and the scratch marks on his back sting and remind him that the roughness of their coupling wasn't one-sided.

"You just trying to stroke my ego?" he asks her with a grin and she raises an eyebrow.

"Your anatomical terms are incorrect," she tells him wickedly and he groans as her hand slides under his boxers and closes around him.

A long time later, they are both naked again. Her breathing is ragged, body flushed and drenched with sweat and he is licking the side of her neck, allowing his teeth to sink into the skin.

"Christ you're good at this, Quinn," she mutters thickly and he laughs.

"Wondering why you waited so long?"

"I didn't know you were interested," she retorts and he looks incredulous.

"I don't know how you manage to be dumb and smart at the same time, sometimes," he remarks and Carrie's face becomes distance for a moment.

"Saul said something like that once …" She stares into his face, reaching up her fingertip to trace the clean, lines of his face – his cheekbones, the curve of his firm mouth … He is almost beautiful in a way that she certainly will never be.

"Don't bring up Saul when we're having sex, Carrie."

"Actually, I’m thinking about Brody right now, not Saul," she tells him honestly.

His hand that has been stroking the hair back from her face stills but he does not draw away from her. Another man might feel insecure or angered that his lover has mentioned a former lover in their bed, but not Quinn. To be honest, he's been waiting for her to finally bring up Brody's name although he has known better than to rush her. Quinn has always been a patient man. It's been more than a year since Brody's death and Carrie never talks of him although there is some times the look of a wounded, wild animal in her eyes that lets Quinn know that she is thinking of Nicholas Brody.

"And?" he invites her. "It's understandable if you still miss him."

She shakes her head. "No … I don't miss him. But I still feel sad … regretful … guilty that I couldn't save him."

Quinn says nothing, merely props himself up on one elbow and listens intently. "I think of all the things he did … not just to me … I know he cared about me, but Christ, sometimes I wonder if I really was crazy."

Her eyes fill with tears and Quinn rests his forehead against hers. "No judgment here, Carrie," he tells her and he means it.

"I thought what I had with Brody was love … looking back, it's hard for me to understand how I could have thought that. Whatever it was, it was intense … emotional … but I know now that it wasn't love."

"If that's your way of telling me you love me, you'd better try again," he tells her with a wicked grin.

"Fuck off. It's not love but the booze that made me fuck you," she tells him insultingly and he laughs.

"You don't drink anymore," he points out mildly, a laugh hovering in his light blue eyes

"Clearly the _hoşaf_ on the Turquoise Coast is potent stuff," she retorts. 

He kisses her bare shoulder, his lips lingering on the scar from the gunshot wound.

"If I ever get my hands on the son of a bitch who shot you…"

"I hear he thinks I deserved it."

"What an asshole." 

Her fingers slide through his hair as he presses another kiss to her scar. There are so many sides to Quinn and he continues to surprise her the longer they know one another.

"I don't even know what the fuck this is," she says helplessly. "I wasn't expecting anything like this to happen."

"Yeah you're my boss," he jokes and she gives him a gentle shove.

"Co-worker. You never listen to me anyway."

"I do if it makes sense," he corrects. 

"You've been my friend through what is without a doubt the most fucked up period of my life – and that really is saying something," she tells him seriously.

"It was an interesting experience being in the friend zone," he comments dryly and she stares at him with her signature frown. Carrie never does anything by half measures and her facial expressions are no exception – at present her brow is furrowed and she is staring at him accusingly.

"Friend zone? You were dating that … what was her name again? The zumba instructor."

"That was over eons ago and dating is a _very_ loose description of what was going on there," he corrects her. He gave a reminiscent smile. "She _was_ very limber though …"

"Deviant," she tells him even as she laughs. "But what happens now?" she asks him, becoming serious again. "What is … this … and what do we do now?"

"I can see the wheels spinning. Don't over think it. Nothing has to change – let's just take it one day at a time. I'm here for you and the baby."

The smile was gone from Carrie's face. "You're the only father figure she's known since birth, Quinn – but in the long-term - Nicholas Brody's child?" she asks him deliberately.

" _Your_ child … and mine, too if I get to stick around," he tells her lightly.

She slumps back onto the pillows and stares up at the ceiling of the room, at the elaborate carvings and bright colours.

She believes him. She has seen the way he is around her daughter – tender, loving and treating her as though she was his own. No one looking at Quinn's smiling face as he holds the tiny child in his arms could imagine that he is capable of being a cold-blooded killer. The man even managed to talk his way into the delivery room.

"This is not a normal life in any way, shape or form … there's a security detail downstairs … and I know about the Glock you've got hidden beside the bed," she tells him.

"Normal is overrated," he says with a shrug. "We're doing ok – Javadi is still playing ball, the team is strong, you're doing well, the baby is doing well – Gülten adores her and is never going to forgive us for leaving her behind on this trip," he said referring to the baby's Turkish nurse who had been given the weekend off. 

Their getaway has been long overdue, all of them have been working hard since the original posting to Istanbul to consolidate the advances that have been made. Javadi does not make life easy for his handler.

Istanbul is not safe by any stretch of the imagination. There continue to be violent attacks throughout Turkey, and there is a continuing threat of terrorist actions and violence against U.S. citizens and interests throughout Turkey. Earlier in the year, a suicide bombing was carried out by the Revolutionary People’s Liberation Party at the U.S. Embassy in Ankara. 

It is a strange place to be bringing up a child but Carrie is not alone and despite all of the external threats and dangers, for the first in her life she has found a measure of peace and equilibrium.

"And how are _you_ doing?" she asks him, tilting her head and he smiles.

"Good, better than good now that this has happened," he tells her in a low voice.

If this wasn't Carrie, he'd tell her that he loves her, that he hopes they'll always be together and that he swears he will protect her and her daughter even at the cost of his own. 

It's Carrie though and such an open declaration would freak her out so he contents himself with drawling,"I'll feed the baby – you make us breakfast but leave the coffee-making to me."

She slides from the bed and he starts to get out as well but before he gets up, he pulls her back lightly so that she's standing between his parted thighs as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"Fuck," she mutters. "Do you really think that this can work, Quinn? You and me?" she asks him, a note of uncertainty and vulnerability in her voice as her fingers tangle in his tousled brown hair.

He turns his head so that he can kiss her fingertips. "It already does, Carrie," he says with a smile and when he looks at her like that, she finds herself believing him.

****

end


End file.
